


Crushes and Collars

by r0tkappchen



Series: Above and Under [10]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 06:32:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13969368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r0tkappchen/pseuds/r0tkappchen
Summary: Prompt by @/kyeonsoos on Twitter: Fuxkboy jongin meets the demure ksoo, but that's what y'all thought.





	Crushes and Collars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [squishoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squishoo/gifts).



Breath caught in his throat, Jongin watches Do Kyungsoo pass by from the corner of his eyes.  
  
He's wearing a black turtleneck today, one that contrasts sharply with the milky complexion of his smooth skin. Dark fringe frames two bright, round eyes and Jongin almost lets a moan slip past his lips when the other male pushes them back, showing off a smooth, kissable forehead.  
  
But he's in the middle of a hallway filled with students; so he doesn't.  
  
"Jongin! Hey," Sehun opens his locker, one right next to his. "You up for the party at Baek's tonight?"  
  
"What? Oh. No..I'm not going. Told Baek already too."  
  
Shrugging, Sehun pats his shoulder when he's done with his books. "Well, just call me if you changed your mind and need a ride."  
  
Jongin surpresses a snort, knowing full well he'll lose his best friend the moment Sehun gets his hands on the alcohols.  
  
Besides. He's sure he's not going to go.  
  
"Sure."  
  
He's got a party of his own.  
  


* * *

  
  
The silence of the room amplifies every little sound he makes, the click of the cap of the tube in his hand loud in his ears.  
  
The light from the screen of his laptop casts a shadow of his figure onto the headboard and the wall; growing smaller as he leans back, hand slicked with lube wrapping around his cock - well on its way to half hard.  
  
His eyes train onto the way the pair of globes on screen are mushed against a parqueted floor, clad in  a tiny pair of boy shorts that barely contains all the flesh, supple skin spilling at hems. The boy on screen is sitting with shins folded to the sides, flat on the floor as little toes wiggle - back arched as he starts moving back and forth.  
  
It prompts a shuddering breath from Jongin's parted lips, mouth watering as the other boy lets out a whimper. The hand on his cock strokes that little bit faster to match the boy's pace; back and forth, back and forth - squeezing when the boy presses himself harder onto the floor.  
  
By the time the boy pulls off his shorts, Jongin's cock stands tilted to the side from how heavy it has grown. Tan thighs part unconsciously with the spreading of milky ones as the one on screen lifts himself. The fluttering hole is a delicious light pink. Jongin groans like he's never seen anything more beautiful, his tip growing a color that could rival the red hot fire burning in his clenching abdomen.  
  
But nothing is more beautiful than the long moan the boy lets out while he descends on a dildo suctioned to the floor, twitching once, then twice, before he bottoms out in one go. He rolls his hips, letting the toy stroke every corner of his insides before he lifts and slams down. Hard.  
  
The boy didn't play. He sets a fast pace from the very beginning, and oh lord, he is so eager tonight it's insane. The velvet collar the boy wears on his live sessions bounce on his skin vigorously, enticingly highlihting the column of his neck. Jongin pants as if he's run a mile, hand dancing fast on his cock in twists and turns to the music of the other boy's breathless mewls. One hand flies to fondle his sacks. He's not sure if it's a result of going without any form of release for almost two weeks but his climax approaches fast, muscles high-strung from tension.  
  
Plump cheeks meet the floor repeatedly with loud slaps, the bottoms turning red from force just as what's visible of the the boy's collar-clad nape. Jongin's mouth parts wider when he starts to imagine what would he have done if he was there right behind the boy - his cock drilling into that tight little hole as he sinks teeth into mole-dotted skin.  
  
A scream erupts from his speakers as if the boy heard his thoughts. His bouncing goes out of rhythm, more desperate, the boy struggling to hit his spot again and again despite his tired limbs. His feet has planted themselved on the floor for leverage to let the boy ride the faux dick in earnest. The boy's ball sacks have grown tight, and lord, Jongin wants them in his mouth.

His head is thrown back right when his small back arches like a bow; derriere pushed out and stilling over the dildo. The boy cums with a drawn out moan that throws Jongin forwards, tensed like a bowstring as his insides snap, thick white spurting from his engorged cock to soil his sweat-drenched tee up to his tanned neck.  
  
The 'Soo' carved into the back of the boy's collar glints, taunting.  
  


* * *

  
  
And perhaps, Jongin should have kept it in mind.  
  
Monday finds Jongin staring at a familiar band of leather, the little silver moon hanging on the front catching light in the dim lighting of the washroom. He almost drops the thing, hands shaking at the sight of 'Soo' decorating the other side of the accesory.  
  
He should give it back..shouldn't he?  
  
But he's shy. Doesn't matter his reputation as a fuckboy - he gets nervous easily, what more in front of..in front of /him/.  
  
Fuck it.  
  
Jongin ventures through the halls and heads to the library of the literature department where he knows the infamous, timid little Kyungsoo usually resides - at the far isolated corner behind a large bookshelf. He's not disappointed.  
  
Bathing in the soft glow of the sunlight through the window, Kyungsoo looks nothing short of ethereal in his pastel blue turtleneck that Jongin feels guilty for breaking the peaceful scene. Kyungsoo looks up at the clearing of his throat.  
  
"Hi, sunbaenim."  
  
A small, polite smile makes way onto Kyungsoo's lips. "Hello. Do you need anything,..?"  
  
"Jongin," he continues, "Kim Jongin."  
  
"Jongin," Kyungsoo repeats, testing the name on his tongue. "I'm Kyungsoo."  
  
Jongin gulps. Is it too late to back out now?  
  
Maybe go straight to the point...or he could just go home and keep it-- "Yes. Uh, about that..I..I think I found something of yours you might have dropped."  
  
"Oh," Kyungsoo's small hands pat his jeans pockets, checking, before he freezes altogether when Jongin places the collar on the desk.  
  
Kyungsoo stares.  
  
Jongin gulps.  
  
Kyungsoo stands from his seat slowly. He reaches for the collar, the metal clasps clanking when they hit, eyes seemingly weighing it over - Jongin doesn't know why he feels the weight on his shoulders instead.  
  
Jongin's breath hitches when the older male finally turns to him, stepping close. He takes a step back. "How..did you know..?"  
  
A lump is stuck in his throat. No words come out save for a hesitant "I.."  
  
Another step forward, and another step back. "You know" Kyungsoo breathes, "you /watch/."  
  
Not so much of a question, but the silence the senior gets is enough of an answer.  
  
Faux innocence masks the barely contained amusement and cheekiness on Kyungsoo's face, large eyes blinking up at the taller. And Jongin hates what it does to his heart and groin. "Did you enjoy my shows, Jongin?"  
  
"I--I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be," Kyungsoo says, gently laying his palm on Jongin's chest - who couldn't back away anymore, the shelf and books already digging into his back. The fingers on his chest flutter like a butterfly's wings but they send electricity zapping into his skin and veins.  
  
"To be fair, I myself have been watching you for quite some time, Mr. Kim."  
  
A smirk stretches Kyungsoo's lips. Jongin takes in a shuddering breath.  
  
"Kyungsoo.."  
  
"Do you want to put this on on me later, Jongin?"

 

  
Jongin is the confident fuckboy and Kyungsoo is the demure senior, but that's what they all thought.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Lame Ai is lame. Sorrii


End file.
